


Strange Fates

by Eressë (eresse21)



Series: Greenleaf and Imladris [16]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-27
Updated: 2014-01-28
Packaged: 2018-01-10 05:45:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1155812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eresse21/pseuds/Eress%C3%AB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The One Ring has come to Rivendell. The twins and Legolas must grapple with decisions that may ultimately seal their fates. Sixteenth story in a series chronicling the millennia-spanning relationship of Legolas and Elrohir from the moment they meet beneath the eaves of Greenwood the Great to the years of the War of the Ring and beyond.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> _The characters belong to the Wizard of storytelling himself, JRR Tolkien and/or his estate. No offence is intended or profit made in my use of them._
> 
> Although Tolkien stated in his books that Elrond’s children had to take ship with him if they were to be of Elvenkind, he also wrote: " _The end of his sons, Elladan and Elrohir, is not told; they delay their choice, and remain for a while._ " (Letters, #153) His intentions regarding Elladan and Elrohir’s ultimate fates are unknown and it is not clear how he proposed to get around the condition he set pertaining to their choices. But this indicates that there was a chance the twins did not become mortal as their sister did when they decided to linger in Middle-earth after Elrond’s departure. I have taken this literary loophole and used it for my own purposes.

Imladris, _Ringarë_ T.A. 3018  
The Hobbits had been nearly two months in the House of Elrond, and November had gone by with the last shreds of autumn, and December was passing, when the scouts began to return. Some had gone north beyond the springs of the Hoarwell into the Ettenmoors; and others had gone west, and with the help of Aragorn and the Rangers had searched the lands far down the Greyflood, as far as Tharbad, where the old North Road crossed the river by a ruined town. Many had gone east and south; and some of these had crossed the Mountains and entered Mirkwood, while others had climbed the pass at the source of the Gladden River, and had come down into Wilderland and over the Gladden Fields and so at length had reached the old home of Radagast at Rhosgobel. Radagast was not there and they had returned over the high pass that was called the Dimrill Stair. The sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir, were the last to return; they had made a great journey, passing down the Silverlode into a strange country, but of their errand they would not speak to any save Elrond. (0) 

Thus, none saw them when they emerged from their father’s study. None witnessed the grim countenance of Elrohir as he nearly stormed down the hall, fists clenched in anger. Close behind him strode Elladan, his expression more anxious than enraged. He spoke urgently to his brother, grasping at his arm to slow him down. But the younger twin would not be dissuaded and purposefully walked on. 

Legolas sat up with a start when Elrohir entered his room without preamble, almost slamming the door against the wall in his agitation. Elladan followed in his wake and just managed to grab the door before it did damage to the wall. The prince had been reclining on his bed, reading a book, but now he put it aside and rose swiftly, puzzled by the younger twin’s demeanor. 

“Father says you offered to accompany the Hobbit on this Quest,” Elrohir said before the archer could speak. “Is this true?”

Legolas was taken aback by the Elf-knight’s hard tone. “Aye, I did,” he replied.

“Why, Legolas?” the twin demanded. “How could you do this without asking us first? How could you even think to go on so perilous a journey by yourself?”

Taking rare exception to Elrohir’s manner, Legolas felt his ire flare up and he snapped back. “I had not realized I was required to secure your permission to do anything! And I can take care of myself, Elrohir. I am a warrior, not an Elfling in need of guardians!”

Elrohir stared at him, eyes darkening with indefinable emotion. He flushed and his mouth tightened. Without a word, he turned on his heel and would have left but for Elladan’s refusal to move out of the way.

“Nay, _muindor_ , do not go,” Elladan softly said. “Legolas does not realize how hard it is for you to let him risk such danger and not be at his side.” He glared at the prince pointedly.

Legolas paled at Elladan’s words. Comprehension came to him and he swiftly repented of his sharp retort to the Elf-knight. Of course Elrohir was upset. He was deeply protective of those he cared for. He reached out to clap a hand on the warrior’s shoulder.

“Forgive me, _gwador_ ,” he said regretfully. “I did not mean to speak to you that way.”

When the younger twin declined to turn around or even look at him, a hurt expression flickered across the prince’s face. He glanced at Elladan imploringly. 

Seeing the archer’s distress, the older twin murmured something to his brother. At length, Elrohir nodded and turned to face his friend. He had managed to school his features but Legolas could still glimpse a trace of the turmoil in the twilight eyes and he wondered at it. Elladan saw his curiosity and moved to blunt it.

“Why did you make the offer, Legolas?” he asked. “There are so many other Elves for _Adar_ to choose from.”

Distracted by the older twin’s query, Legolas turned his attention to the question. “There isn’t just one reason, Elladan,” he said. “Frodo is the main reason, of course. I want to help him even if ‘tis just for part of the journey.”

“Part of the journey?”

“I told Lord Elrond I was willing to go as far as the passes of the mountains. Mayhap a little further beyond if need be.”

Elladan frowned. “You may be required to go more than just a little further beyond in this Quest. This enterprise is fraught with uncertainty at best. Would you brave Mordor itself?”

Legolas bit his lip. “I do not know,” he admitted. “But I do wish to be of service to Frodo. I cannot bear the thought of that little one going into peril with scarcely any help.” He glanced at Elrohir who had thus remained silent so far. “And I cannot deny that I am drawn by the chance to see more of Middle-earth.” 

He caught the Elf-knight’s gaze and held it pleadingly. “You have seen and done so much in your lives. You have sojourned in Lothlórien, ridden in secret with the Rohirrim in the Riddermark, served your kin unrecognized in Gondor and even sailed along the distant shores of Belfalas in Dol Amroth. These places are but names to me yet you know them well, have dwelt amongst the people who call them home. I know this Quest is perilous but it calls to me even as you have been called to errantry to avenge your mother’s torment.” He anxiously studied the silvery pools that gazed back at him steadily. Seeing them soften just the slightest bit, he pressed on. “Should your father choose me to go on this journey, I would dearly wish to do so with your blessings.”

Elrohir held his gaze, making him inexplicably uneasy. “Your explanation does not completely ring true,” the younger twin said at length. At Legolas’ start of surprise, he continued quietly. “Are you certain ‘tis not also because you feel responsible for Gollum’s escape from Mirkwood?” 

Now even Elladan stared at him when the latter noted the flush that stained the archer’s cheeks. 

“‘Twas you who guarded the creature?” the older twin asked in disbelief. At the prince’s shamefaced nod, he added: “And did your father blame you for his escape?”

Legolas hesitated then shook his head. “Nay, he did not. Nor did he desire for me to bear the news to the council. ‘Twas my decision.” He let out a frustrated exhalation then looked ruefully at Elrohir “You know me too well. _Adar_ put me in charge of guarding Gollum and like a fool I let him escape to do his mischief.”

“You did not let him do anything,” Elrohir demurred firmly. “The forces that threaten our peace are far more powerful and treacherous than anything we have previously known. Please, Calenlass, do not blame yourself when your own father does not.”

Legolas gave him a wan smile. “You balm my wounded pride and sore heart, Elrohir,” he answered gratefully. “Yet what I said earlier was also true. I still would go with the Company and lend aid if I may. I know I am not as formidable a warrior as either of you but I would like to help in this undertaking if only for the honor of the Woodland Realm.”

Elrohir regarded him a little longer then sighed in resignation. “I do not belittle your abilities, Legolas. You are a warrior without peer and I would take umbrage at anyone who would suggest otherwise.” He smiled slightly at the bright gleam of pleasure in the archer’s eyes. “If I was upset, ‘tis because Father refused our request to join the Company as well.” He drew a pensive breath. “If I could not go with you, then I did not want you to go at all.”

Legolas swallowed hard, moved by this evidence of Elrohir’s deep regard for him. “Why did Lord Elrond turn you down?” he asked. “Your presence on this Quest would be most valuable not only to the Ring-bearer but to Mithrandir and Aragorn as well. As I said, you have already seen and done so much. Surely your vast experience would be welcome to all.”

“He turned us down precisely because of all we have seen and done,” Elladan quietly explained. At Legolas’s perplexed reaction, he said: “We are too much Estel and Mithrandir’s equals. Even were Elrohir and I to keep our peace and submit to their every command, there would always be the feeling that we may know more or better and that might lead to dissension amongst the Company. Estel, in particular, would be hindered by this and he should not be if he is to fulfill his destiny.” 

He gave Legolas a look that was equal parts fondness and envy. “You, on the other hand, for all your years, are still an innocent compared even to our foster brother. You would not question his or Mithrandir’s decisions, would not make them feel inadequate or unsure of their choices. And you would not unwittingly cause others to question their judgment as we might. Yet you are also their friend and would not blindly follow them into ruin but reach out and hold them back if need be.”

Legolas fell silent for a space as he considered Elladan’s words. He glanced at Elrohir surreptitiously and caught the raw pain in the other’s eyes before he could veil them. He caught his breath at the sight and felt the hurt resound in his own heart though he did not understand why. He turned to the younger twin and took his hands in his, savoring the barely restrained power in the deceptively slender fingers. 

“There is no surety that Lord Elrond will choose me,” he said softly. “But if he does, know that ‘tis from you that I will find the wherewithal to endure whatever comes my way. Ever have you been a source of strength and courage to me, Elf-knight. I cannot conceive of life deprived of your presence.”

Elrohir visibly trembled at the heartfelt utterance. He did not speak at once, not trusting his voice to see him through, but when he finally did, he murmured, “Nor can I.” He ignored Elladan’s sharp glance at him and added, “I will not stand in your way, Legolas, if this is your desire.”

The smile that lit up the archer’s face was small comfort under the circumstances but comfort nevertheless and the younger twin managed a smile of his own. He did not let it falter until Legolas swept him into a grateful hug. Elladan saw his eyes then, the windows of his soul, and shivered at the darkness and sorrow in the pewter depths.

oOoOoOo

The deeps of the night should have found all of Rivendell asleep. But Elladan could not find the peace of mind that would allow him to drift into slumber or, failing that, find respite in his waking dreams. He was too troubled for rest, too fearful of what the future portended for him and Elrohir. Or rather what it would lead his brother to do.

Sitting up in bed, he held in his hand Nimeithel’s precious letter delivered to him by Legolas upon his arrival two months ago. He had not had the chance to read it until now what with his and Elrohir’s sudden journey to the Golden Wood. Upon their return, he had read and re-read it, savoring the love and succor he found in her tender message.

But even the letter could not dispel the feeling of impending loss that raced through his veins ever so often. He sighed. 

For several years after the near demise of his friendship with Legolas and their subsequent reconciliation, Elrohir had seemed content enough, even happy with the way things were. Elladan was well aware of the reason behind his brother’s blitheness. How could he not be when he’d learned that his desire at least was returned?

But then Legolas had backed away once more, discomposed by his strong physical attraction to his best friend and his undeniable need for his continued regard. It was as if his confession had triggered anew the fears and doubts he’d always harbored when faced with anything that invited his heart’s involvement. And there was no denying that his last encounter with Elrohir had verged on that.

Despite his admission, he had shied from further intimacy with Elrohir. Had shown every sign of discomfort at the memory of their last coupling. Had even gone to the extent of avoiding any allusion to it, leading the brethren to conclude that he would rather put it behind him if he could. 

It was no wonder his twin had not told the prince the truth about his feelings. With Legolas so skittish about the matter, who knew how he would react? Mindful as ever of the archer’s feelings, Elrohir had quietly veiled his and retreated once more behind the walls of pretence. 

Elladan understood the need for silence. Still, there were times when he wished his brother would cast prudence by the wayside and declare his love. And almost immediately after worry about the consequences of such a declaration.

Not that Elrohir would heed him. He had already resigned himself to his fate, bleak and hopeless as it was. And there lay the source of Elladan’s fears. 

They had been allayed for a brief while during the twins’ stay in Lórien but now, faced once more with Elrohir’s unremitting sorrow, Elladan could not set them aside so easily. Particularly when certain choices were now at hand and his brother’s decisions could all be too easily influenced by his despair.

With a frustrated growl, he rose from his bed and, laying Nimeithel’s letter on his bedside table, strode out to seek peace elsewhere. In the garden mayhap, under the balming light of his grandsire’s starry gaze.

Which was where Gandalf found him an hour later. The Wizard, too, had found sleep elusive and had slipped out for a late night stroll. Discovering Elrond’s older son seated on one of the stone benches around the garden’s perimeter, he immediately discerned that more than sleeplessness had driven Elladan out into the chill night. He sauntered to the warrior.

“Having trouble sleeping?” he softly inquired when Elladan looked up at his approach.

The older twin smiled wanly and nodded. “And you, Mithrandir? Does the same dilemma bring you out here?”

Gandalf chuckled, a trace of weariness limning his mirth. “The dilemma is the same but not the cause. I worry about a most intrepid Hobbit.” 

Elladan had to grin. “A valiant little one, the young Baggins,” he agreed. “I can see why Bilbo favored him amongst all his kin. They are much alike.”

“As you and Elrohir are alike,” Gandalf mused. “Yet your fates may yet differ.” At Elladan’s startled expression, he gently added, “For that is the reason for your present anxiety, is it not?”

Elladan shook his head. “How you know these things...” He gravely looked at the Istar then patted the space beside him. Gandalf sank down on the proffered spot and returned his gaze. Elladan said, “The time draws near when we must choose our path. To leave Middle-earth with Father or be as Arwen and cleave to mortal-kind.”

Gandalf nodded knowingly. “And have you made your decision?” he asked with the tone of one who already knew the answer.

“I have.”

The Wizard smiled approvingly. “Good. That should keep Thranduil from calling out your father on account of his daughter’s honor,” he remarked.

Elladan stared at him, startled. “I had not thought that he disapproved of our relationship,” he said with a frown.

Gandalf smiled. “He does not. But neither can he bear to see his only daughter love in vain.” He looked pointedly at the older twin. “When next you set foot in the Woodland Realm, I suggest you have a proposal ready. Thranduil will not stand for any delays once he learns of your choice!”

Elladan laughed softly. “If the shadow does not overtake us,” he murmured, “I will try to appease him.”

Gandalf’s smile saddened. “Yet another reason holds you back from joining with Nimeithel,” he commented. “You are torn between fulfilling your desire and protecting your brother.”

Elladan bit his lip. “Neither of us wishes to depart Middle-earth with _Adar_ if it is too soon in the future. This is our home, the land of our birth and joys and suffering. But if we must to be of Elf-kind...” He sighed with even greater melancholy. “Nimeithel is not ready to leave either and I would not force her. She has even less reason to forsake Middle-earth for a place she only knows as legend. But if we were to be bound before I must go, we could bear the parting. Our hearts would hold us steady while we awaited our reunion in Aman. But Elrohir...”

Gandalf said nothing but looked at him encouragingly. And so he continued. 

“You know of his love?”

“I have long suspected it.”

“Then you also know why he might choose the Gift of Men.”

“Aye, that is quite apparent.”

Elladan stared into the shadows of the thick shrubbery that edged the garden where moon and starlight did not penetrate.

“Our twinship keeps him from waning,” he said quietly. “I have kept his flame burning with my love and support since I first suspected his passion. But with my heart more and more in Nimeithel’s keeping, I cannot lend him as much strength as before. Already our bond is less than what it once was.” He looked at Gandalf sorrowfully. “He is valorous, more than any Elf that now lives I wager, but even he cannot stave off the failing of his spirit indefinitely.”

“He might find peace and healing in Valinor,” Gandalf said.

“Nay, he will not. He has turned inward to his own steadfast heart for strength and forbearance.” Elladan swallowed hard. “Should I wed Nimeithel, ‘twill be that alone that will sustain him,” he said painfully. “He will live by the sheer force of the knowledge that in friendship at least he may call Legolas his. Were they to be parted for Elbereth knows how long and with no certitude of reunion, if he were to no longer feel their bond of brotherhood... that would be as exile to him. He would fade even in the Blessed Realm.”

Gandalf let out a heavy sigh. He had wondered about Elrohir’s endurance, had guessed at what had sustained him all these centuries in the face of unrequited love. But he had not realized how deep the younger twin’s feelings ran or how great his despair had grown in recent years. Elladan’s grief was understandable. Either his twin would fade or he would choose as his sister and die a mortal death. 

Long had he guarded the Powers’ latest decree regarding the Peredhil, unwilling to let it influence and mayhap change for the worse what had been foretold in ages past. But now that Aragorn and Arwen were promised to each other... 

“There will be no need to take ship with your father if ‘tis not yet your desire,” he said. 

Elladan started then stared at him. “What do you mean?” he asked sharply.

Gandalf gently explained: “Your heart’s desire, your spirit’s yearning will hold you to your chosen fate. Just as your sister will become of Mortal-kind by cleaving to Aragorn so may you linger in Middle-earth and still be of Elfkind by binding yourself to one of your kindred. There will be no need for the formality of the vows of espousal to seal your choice for the Powers already know your heart. All that is required is a declaration before them to sanctify it.”

He paused to allow Elladan to draw much needed breath then pressed on. “They to whom you pledge your hearts and spirits will stand in your father’s stead and so long as they abide in Middle-earth, you will have the youth of the Eldar. And when they depart you will perforce take ship with them to make your eternal abodes in Elvenhome.”

Elladan was rendered speechless for the longest while. When he did find his tongue, it was all he could do not to grab the Wizard by his beard in his agitation.

“You knew this all these centuries!” he exclaimed. “Why did you not tell us? Arwen—!”

“Had to fulfill her destiny,” Gandalf finished softly. “Think you she would have changed her mind once her heart made its choice?”

Elladan’s anger dissipated. “But you feared we would force our wishes upon her,” he said.

The Istar nodded. “I had to choose between the grief of one family and the destiny of an entire kingdom of Men. ‘Twas not a simple thing to hold my tongue on this matter. Elrond...”

He left it at that. But Elladan understood. His father, for all his wisdom, might have set it aside in the compulsion to keep his children from treading his brother’s path.

“I will take care of telling _Adar_ after you leave,” he quietly offered.

Gandalf’s tired features lit up in gratitude. Meanwhile, Elladan had cause to smile in elation.

“Nimeithel and I need not part!” he said happily. But just as swiftly, his joy dwindled as he recalled his twin. He shook his head in renewed sorrow. “I may still dissuade him from making our sister’s choice. But if what you have told me is the means by which Elrohir may remain in these lands past Father’s leaving, then ‘tis of no matter. Legolas may never be ready to bind himself to anyone, much less another _ellon_. My brother will be doomed either way and we will lose him.”

Gandalf pursed his lips. “I did not say that Legolas must bind to him as well,” he gently reminded the other.

Elladan gaped at the Wizard. “Are you saying that... he may pledge himself... even without Legolas’s knowledge?” he demanded disbelievingly.

Gandalf nodded. “‘Tis the choice of his heart that will seal his fate.”

Elladan blew his breath out. “That is a most difficult choice,” he said. “The uncertainty...”

“Means he still may hope,” the Wizard concluded. “None of us can know for certain what the future holds. Time and destiny are much too fluid. But ‘tis hope that will help us persevere even in the darkest of days. Your brother is strong of heart, Elladan. Indeed, stronger than any I have yet known in all my long years. ‘Tis a virtue worthy of great reward.”

Elladan regarded him gravely. “And will he receive his reward?” he mused. “Do the Powers take notice of mere matters of the heart?”

Gandalf smiled. “They take notice,” he answered. “For the matters of the heart have dictated the course of history far more often than any choices of conscious thought.” 

*********************************************  
Glossary:  
Ringarë – Quenya for December  
muindor – brother  
gwador - sworn brother  
ellon – male Elf 

(0) Quoted from LotR: _Fellowship of the Ring_ , Book 2, Chapter 3: The Ring Goes South. 

_To be continued…_


	2. Chapter 2

“The one called Samwise possesses hidden strength,” Elrohir commented as he and Legolas observed the Hobbits. 

In the last days before the Company’s departure, the Halflings had spent most of their time together though Frodo and his surprisingly knowledgeable cousin Merry also applied themselves to studying maps of the south and learning what they could of their appointed way. This morning the Hobbits were gathered in the near empty Hall of Fire, huddled before the great hearth, reminiscing about the dearly missed homely comforts of the Shire during winter. 

“He does not realize it yet but he will be a great asset to your Company,” the warrior added. “Indeed, they all will be, even young Took.”

Legolas smiled at his friend’s assessment. Elrohir had a knack for reading people’s hearts and scrying the possible consequences thereof. 

“What about the Dwarf?” he queried, the barest hint of belittlement in his tone.

Elrohir glanced at him a little chidingly. “Gimli is noble and stout-hearted,” he said. “You must let go of some of your preconceived ideas regarding other peoples.”

“You can hardly blame me for some misgivings,” Legolas said. “I have not forgotten how the Battle of the Five Armies came about.”

“Your father was not entirely without fault,” Elrohir gently pointed out. “And he did gain much from it at the end.”

Legolas scowled, misliking both criticism and allegation particularly since he could refute neither. He changed the subject.

“And Boromir?” he snipped.

“What am I, a seer?” Elrohir protested jestingly. At Legolas’ humorless gaze, he sighed and said: “He is a noble man but... his loyalty to his father and Gondor may prove his undoing. He is... unlearned in the lore of the Ring. ‘Tis a pity the Steward did not send his younger son.”

“Why do you say that?” Legolas curiously asked.

“The younger one hearkened to Mithrandir when last he went south,” Elrohir explained. “He bears no misplaced pride and seems the more accepting of others’ counsel even if they gainsay his father’s supposed wisdom.” He shook his head. “Boromir is a good man and a valorous one. But I would exercise caution around him nonetheless.”

He glanced at Legolas. The archer’s brow was still furrowed. Elrohir sighed inwardly. His friend’s temper had been anything but pleasant these past few days.

“I had hoped our parting would be amicable at least,” he quietly commented.

Legolas was startled out of his sour mood. He looked at the Elf-knight ruefully.

“I am sorry,” he murmured. “I know I have been terrible company but I cannot seem to help it. The future... I fear that... Elrohir, I must confess, I am afraid of what will happen if we fail in this quest.”

“You are not alone in that fear,” the darkling Elf said. “But you need not struggle with it by yourself.”

The tacit offer of consolation did much to hearten the Wood-elf ere he had even accepted it.

“Thank you,” he said. “And there are things I wish to tell you before I must go. It would lighten my heart, _gwador_.”

Elrohir nodded. “Speak freely, Calenlass. I will listen.”

oOoOoOo

Some hours later, Elladan went in search of his twin, the urge to tell Elrohir about Gandalf’s revelation strong in him. He practically scoured the Last Homely House until he was openly cursing in every language he knew, which was a formidable number to say the least. Only at the last did he think to look in the armory though why his brother should linger there was beyond him.

Yet there he was, tucked away in the furthermost corner of the room, eyeing the weapons hanging on the wall in that little visited spot. Elladan felt a chill snake up his spine. 

It was the wall upon which were displayed the sword, shield and spear of Elros, first king of Númenor. Their father’s twin, their Peredhel uncle turned mortal. Elrond had borne the weapons back to Lindon after his brother’s death then taken them to Rivendell as mementos of his lost sibling.

Why would Elrohir regard them now so avidly?

“What fascination does our uncle’s weapons hold for you?” he asked abruptly.

Elrohir turned his head sharply, obviously taken unawares by his twin. A disturbing sign in itself. Elladan came up to his side, unable to keep the accusing gleam out of his glare.

Elrohir met his stare head on. “I was pondering his choice,” he answered evenly. 

“And?”

“I envy him.”

“Why?” Elladan’s voice turned hard with fear.

The Elf-knight unleashed darkly glittering eyes on him. “What must it be like to be free from sorrow, Elladan? To know true peace? To find bliss in oblivion?” 

“Why do you speak thusly?” Elladan demanded. “What brought on this morbid mood?”

Elrohir’s eerie calm did not relent. “I spoke long with Legolas this morn,” he said. “He was fearful of what failure by the Fellowship might lead to. I thought to counsel him, mayhap take some of the burden from him.”

“It seems to me you took more than some of his burden,” Elladan said.

“He was in need of comfort... of whatever caring I could spare him,” Elrohir went on, heedless of his brother’s sarcasm. “I almost told him then.”

Elladan went still. “But you did not?” Elrohir shook his head. “Why not, brother? What stopped you?”

Elrohir looked him straight in the eye. He nearly reeled from the brimming anguish he saw in the pewter depths.

“He called me his dearest friend, his heart’s brother, even his refuge.” 

Elladan stared at his twin in confusion. Why should such affectionate terms have pained him so?

“Elrohir—”

“And then he told me that...” Elrohir visibly trembled at this point. “...that he was glad I no longer... held more feelings for him than what was due a friend.”

Elladan stared at him in shock. “Nay,” he whispered disbelievingly. “To what end did he say this? What need was there for it?”

The twilight eyes turned black with hopelessness. "'Twas his way of restoring our friendship to what it once was. Before I... altered it with...” He broke off, unable to continue, and turned back to gaze at the weapons upon the wall.

“But why?” Elladan said harshly. “He already admitted desire for you, why this sudden reversal?”

Elrohir did not look at him. “He is leaving on a journey from which there may be no return,” he said dully. “He seeks peace, Elladan, not only for his mind but also for his heart. It is as guarded as ever, mayhap even more. He does not want anything to impede him in this undertaking. Especially not memories that cause him unease.”

“Valar! Is there no end to his folly?!” Elladan exclaimed irately. “Were he no friend, I swear I would run him through for what he is doing to you!”

“Do not think ill of him, _gwaniuar_ ”—older twin—Elrohir objected, looking at him once more. “He is not to blame for the love I bear him. ‘Tis not his fault that he fears what love can wreak. His heart is his to do with as he wishes and if he chooses to lock it up to keep it out of harm’s way, then so be it.”

“But you would protect his fragile heart,” Elladan protested. “You would take hurt first before allowing any evil to befall him.” He grasped his brother’s shoulder. “Do not let him go on his way ignorant of the truth. Tell him now, Elrohir.”

“Nay, I cannot do that.”

“Why not?” Elladan burst out in frustration. “Why do you hold back? Where is the Elrohir who would strive fiercely for what he desired and would even bend others to his will to achieve it?”

The Elf-knight shook his head. “I will not have him shy from me in distress that I should want him. More so when he needs to believe that I do not. I will not have him leave on so perilous a journey burdened by what I feel for him, troubled that he cannot answer it. Nor would I care to bend him to my will. The result would not be love but merely a parody of it that would never survive the test of eternity.”

The older twin’s mouth tightened at this unassailable reply. Dread rose once more to choke him as he considered what his brother might possibly do in his desolation. Desperately, he recalled the hope-filled moment he’d known in Lothlórien. 

He’d been walking by himself, feeling a heaviness in his heart that refused to depart. At length, he’d stopped in a small clearing where elanor and niphredil practically carpeted the ground. He paused, staring at the mingled gold and white blossoms. They reminded him even more sharply of what distressed him so deeply. It was then that he felt her presence and turned to see his grandmother regarding him from a short distance away.

She quietly approached him, her eyes sad and understanding. “Forgive me, _mell nîn_ , if I have intruded on your privacy,” the Lady murmured, brushing a strand of sable from her older grandson’s cheek. “But Celeborn and I have seen how troubled you and Elrohir are and that it has nothing to do with the Ring that has been found.” 

Elladan sighed. Useless to keep anything from their grandparents. Even without Galadriel’s mirror they saw deeply into the hearts of many. What had they seen in his heart? Or Elrohir’s? 

“You are concerned about the choice you must make but even more so about Elrohir’s choice,” she gently supplied.

Elladan nodded. “We sense the time is nearing when we must decide our fate.”

Galadriel smiled. “And would you cleave to the Firstborn, _gwaniuar_?” she said. “Does a certain maiden of Mirkwood have that much sway upon you?”

The twin blushed. “Aye, Grandmother, she does.” He bit his lip. “I greatly wish to be of Elvenkind for her sake. But Elrohir...”

“He is tempted to take the same path as Elros.”

Elladan was silent for a while. Then he let out a sharp exhalation of breath. “I understand why Elros chose the doom of Lúthien!” he exclaimed. “Why father was able to let him go despite the pain of that separation.” He shuddered. “We will lose Arwen for the same reason though I cannot blame her for her decision. I cannot deny her the love she has found. But for Elrohir to choose the fate of Men because of...” He clenched his teeth in frustration.

“Despair,” Galadriel quietly finished for him. “He sees the ephemeral lives of Men as an escape from his pain.”

Elladan nodded dully. “I have always been able to persuade him in other matters,” he said with a hitch in his voice. “But this time I am not so certain.”

He felt the Lady’s comforting hand on his shoulder. A measure of peace washed over him. She had the same soothing touch as her daughter had, his mother. 

“Do not grieve, Elladan,” she counseled. “Elrohir may yet choose as you wish.”

Something in her tone gave him reason to hope. “You spoke to him?” he asked.

“Celeborn and I did, last night,” she acknowledged. “We did not attempt to influence him into making the choice we desire for him. That is not our right. But we did try to enlighten him as to the consequences of whatever decision he may make. Your grandsire, bless his wisdom, pointed out that in the eternity of Elvenkind there is always time to hope and the chance that his desire will be granted. But if he chooses the other fate it will be the end of his hope and of happiness even should his desire come to pass.”

Elladan pondered her words. “Do you think it will come to pass?” he queried. “Have you seen something in your mirror?”

“You know very well that the mirror does not tell the future. It only suggests possibilities. But, yes, I have seen something.” She paused. “I will know more if _he_ comes this way. It shall be an opportunity for us to see if he is worthy of such devotion from Elrohir.”

The warrior’s eyes widened. “Why would he come—?”

A finger to his lips silenced him. “I cannot say. I can only speculate,” Galadriel said. “Do not speak of this to your brother. I would not have him add this worry to his burden. And there is no surety that what I have seen will indeed occur. Do you understand?”

Elladan did not press further. “I understand.”

Galadriel smiled. “I believe your grandfather’s words had some effect on your brother. We could feel a lightening of his spirit.”

Elladan felt his hope surge. “Then I am grateful that circumstances sent us here if this means Elrohir will ponder his choice a little more prudently.”

“You can help him, Elladan,” Galadriel softly suggested. “No one would blame you for trying to persuade him to your way of thinking. You are his twin and most beloved of his heart save for one other.”

“Anything, Grandmother.” Elladan passionately said. “Please tell me, what must I do?”

“Remind him of what he will lose if he strays from the path as well as what he may yet gain should he hold to it. He will hearken to you if he sees his hope in your eyes.”

For the first time in a long time, Elladan felt his spirit sing. The days were dark, the times uncertain. Middle-earth was at a crossroads that could take it back to greatest glory or down into blackest ruin. Yet here in a small glade in the Golden Wood, such happiness as can be found took hold and brought a glad smile not only to his lips but to his heart as well. 

He hugged the Lady, revelling in the wonder and comfort that he was of her blood, one of her cherished grandchildren.

Elladan came back sharply to the present. He gazed at his brooding brother with renewed determination. Abruptly, he said, “If you choose as Arwen has, you will not only bring grief anew to _Ada_ and me but sorrow to Legolas as well.”

A pair of eyebrows so like his own rose in implicit scepticism. “He will grieve for the loss of a friend but nothing more,” he said dismissively. “Eventually he will heal and move on.”

“Nay, in that you are mistaken, brother,” Elladan countered. “In closing his heart to love, Legolas has chosen the way of loneliness. He will be alone, Elrohir. Alone for all time. All the more will he seek your company, rely on your presence. Even now he needs you though he refuses to recognize the depth of it.”

Elrohir gazed at him uncertainly. At this sign of weakening, Elladan swiftly pressed on. “And if you choose the fate of our uncle, what then if you should attain your desire?” he challenged. “Would you then spend but a season with your beloved then leave him to grieve without surcease or fade for love of you? Surely you cannot wish that fate upon one so dear to your heart.”

Elrohir had started at his words. Now he shuddered indecisively, torn between the blatant promise of respite from his pain and the tempting glimmer of deliverance from his despair. Elladan, ever the warrior, attacked with the most effective weapons in his arsenal.

“Confound it, Elrohir, I will not lose you as _Ada_ lost Elros!” he bellowed. “I will not be sundered from you for all eternity!” He grabbed his brother by the arms. “By the love you bear me, do not choose rashly! I implore you, do not take that road, _gwanneth_!”— younger twin.

Elrohir stared into the depths of his twin’s eyes. He inwardly cringed at the grief and fear he saw in the storm-blue pools. Guilt struck him hard as he realized the extent of his brother’s torment – on account of him. 

“Ah, Elladan!” he cried and flung his arms around the older twin. “Forgive me for causing you such unhappiness. I would not have you suffer because of me!”

Elladan embraced him snugly. “Then choose as I would,” he whispered. “Be with me always, _tôr nîn_.”—my brother.

Elrohir drew back and let out a shaky breath. “I will think hard on this, _gwaniuar_ ,” he softly said. When Elladan would have protested, he quickly forestalled him. “I will say this much. ‘Twas for lack of hope that I had looked to the Doom of Men for reprieve from my pain. But you have given me new hope with your counsel and made it less of a temptation.”

Elladan stared at him intently, his eyes searching with piercing discernment. Elrohir met his stare unflinchingly. Something in the silvery gaze of his brother satisfied the older twin and he found the means to smile wanly.

“Then I will continue to give you hope,” he quietly said, “if in doing so I may hold you to my path and our kindred.”

Elrohir managed a sad smile. “You do realize that this may all be for naught,” he said quietly. “Even should I take ship with _Ada_ and you, I may yet pass into Mandos’s Halls. I meant it when I said that I could not live deprived of his presence.”

Elladan vehemently shook his head. “I spoke with Mithrandir about this last night,” he said. “What he indicated as a possibility previously, he affirmed. We need not depart with _Ada_ if we are not ready to leave Middle-earth.” He hesitated then gazed bravely at Elrohir and repeated what the Wizard had told him. 

The implications of his brother’s pronouncement struck Elrohir mute for a few minutes. Finally he said, “Then to remain at his side I would have to pledge myself...” He paled considerably. 

Elladan continued to stare at him, apprehension coursing through him that the revelation may have undone all that he had achieved earlier. But then Elrohir looked at him and smiled. It was a heartbreakingly gentle smile and Elladan felt sudden tears sting his eyes.

“If I take your path, I will bind my heart and spirit as you would,” Elrohir whispered.

Elladan forced the next words from his lips. In all fairness, he had to say them whatever the consequences they might wreak.

“Even if he knows it not?’ he murmured.

Elrohir nodded. “Even then,” he said. At his brother’s unhappy reaction, he added, “He is worth it, Elladan.”

The older twin bit his lip then drew the Elf-knight back into a tight hug. “You will come to your desire, _gwanneth_ ,” he fiercely insisted. “The Valar would not withhold love from one as valiant and deserving as you.”

Elrohir pressed his face against his brother’s shoulder. “I pray you are right, _tôr iaur_. I truly do.”

*******************************************  
Glossary:  
scry – to perceive the future ( _archaic_ )  
mell nîn – my dear  
Ada – Papa  
tôr iaur – older brother

_To be continued…_


	3. Chapter 3

On the eve of the Company’s departure, the Last Homely House lay in pensive silence. No songs enlivened the Hall of Fire, no laughter rang through the corridors. Nine valiant souls were walking out of the valley into certain peril and possible ruin. Nine who represented the Free Peoples of Middle-earth. And amongst them one who bore the fate of Arda by dint of his pluck and tender heart.

There was no place for merriment this last day before the Company of Nine walked knowingly into the gathering darkness. 

For much of the afternoon, the members of the Fellowship closeted themselves with Elrond and his twin sons in the former’s study, going over maps for the last time, absorbing as much counsel as they could muster. Then save for Gandalf and Legolas they left to seek what comfort they might. The Wizard continued to confer with Elrond but the twins retired to the long couch against the wall with Legolas.

Gandalf watched as the brethren and their woodland friend whiled away the last hours of the afternoon, speaking quietly amongst themselves. Elladan and Elrohir sat half sprawled on either end of the couch. Legolas lay across them, his feet propped on Elladan’s knees, his head ensconced in Elrohir’s lap. 

It was a familiar sight to the Wizard, one that always made him smile with pleasure. For how could anyone not feel glad at such profound affection between friends? 

One might have judged their idleness as a sad waste of precious time. But Gandalf knew better. The twins were stoking their friend’s fortitude with their close regard. In particular, Elrohir was imparting strength to the prince with every tender word uttered and every balming caress of his hand. That was evident in the shining light in Legolas’s eyes as he basked in the Elf-knight’s ministrations.

Gandalf’s eyes met Elladan’s across the room. In that swift exchange, he comprehended what had passed between the brothers. He sighed with some relief. Mayhap Elrond would gain both his sons yet. He turned his attention back to the Imladrin lord. Elrond, too, had taken to staring at the younger twin. His expression betrayed his unawareness as yet of his sons’ fateful conversation. 

The elder Peredhel’s eyes were sorrowful. So, he knows, Gandalf thought. He fears he will lose Elrohir as he has lost Arwen though for vastly different reasons. The Wizard sighed. It had been most painful to witness the moment when Arwen told Elrond and the twins of her choice.

They had all been seated by Celebrían’s rose garden, happy to have both Arwen and Aragorn returned to them for a while. Gandalf had been with them, always a welcome part of their family gatherings no matter how intimate.

He’d thought to leave the family to their privacy when Arwen brought up the matter but Elrond had stayed him. Mayhap he already sensed what his daughter would say and sought my steadying presence, Gandalf mused. Certainly Elrond had needed it as had Elladan. 

In his friend’s eyes the Istar had seen the most profound anguish imaginable mingled with bitterness that his family’s loss was due to his own foster son’s existence. Not that he ever took it out on Aragorn. He loved the Dúnadan too much to ever harbor anger against him. Rather it had been against the demands of fate that he had vented his resentment.

His emotions had been mirrored in Elladan’s reaction. It had taken the older twin some time before he could speak with Aragorn again. That had been another painful moment when he had sought his mortal kinsman and welcomed him as law-brother. His love for Aragorn had overtaken his pain, but none could deny Elladan’s struggle not to forsake the Ranger he’d helped raise. It was a testament to his loving heart and implacable sense of duty that he had overcome the darkness that might have sundered him from both Arwen and Aragorn even in this life.

It was Elrohir’s response that had most differed and therefore proved most telling. He’d known grief, of course, and keenly felt the irony of his once-doted-upon Estel being the reason now for his dear sister’s choice. But there had also been the slightest tinge of envy in his argent eyes. Envy for their happiness, for the knowledge that whatever sorrows befell them they would have their love to see them through and, failing that, the reprieve of release from suffering in mortal death.

It was then that Gandalf had realized that his long ago suspicions had come to fruition though, until his talk with Elladan, not the full extent of it. He surmised that Elrond had made his own conclusions that grief-drenched day upon beholding his younger son’s reaction.

What a pity Legolas had not been around to see it, Gandalf thought. Mayhap it might have finally opened his stubborn Wood-elf’s eyes and showed him what was under his very nose! But then again, the Wizard considered, knowing his mercurial nature, his fearful heart, he could just as well have bolted and that would have been fatal for the steadfast Elf-knight. 

Ai, at times like this he was all too relieved that he was no love-struck denizen of Middle-earth. There were certain advantages to being what he was and more than ever he was thankful for that.

He regarded Elrond once more, noted how he gazed sadly at his younger son. The Wizard reached out and clasped the other’s hand in a compassionate grip.

“How long have you known?” he asked in a low voice.

Elrond started. He looked at his friend and saw the knowledge in his eyes. He let out a weary breath. 

“Since Arwen told us about...” He shook his head. “His reaction was odd to say the least. I have watched him ever since.”

“Have you spoken to him of this?”

Elrond shook his head. “He is proud,” he replied, with just a touch of that same pride in his voice. “He would sooner face a horde of dragons than invite pity from anyone. He knows he can come to me. But he has not and I believe ‘tis because he knows of my fears.” His gaze softened as he continued to eye his son. “Just as his love runs deeper than the deepest seas, so does his valor scale the highest peaks. He would take on all our burdens if he could, even on top of his own.”

His dark eyes glittered anew with dread and sorrow. Gandalf shifted his hand to the Elf-lord’s shoulder and gently shook him. 

“Have faith, Elrond,” he softly counseled.

Elrond sighed. “I have already lost my beloved Arwen,” he murmured. “How can I endure the loss of my gallant Elrohir as well?” 

“You do not know that you have lost him,” Gandalf said. “Trust him, my friend. He will do what is right for himself... and Legolas.”

Elrond’s gaze shifted to the woefully oblivious Sindarin prince. His lips tightened.

“I love him like one of my own,” he said. “Yet I cannot help questioning if he is worth my son’s faithfulness and suffering. He is so – so obtuse not to see what is offered to him. Elbereth knows how many would kill for the chance to own even a fraction of such devotion yet he—” Elrond blew out his breath in exasperation. “Elrohir’s love is a priceless treasure not lightly bestowed. If only I could convince myself that he is worthy of it.”

“If Elrohir deems him worthy who are we to say otherwise?” Gandalf pointed out. “And Legolas is not so much obtuse as afraid to venture his heart. Fear can blind us; make us commit all manner of foolishness or wrongdoing. Legolas knows nothing of lovers’ hearts; you can scarcely expect him to perceive Elrohir’s. Your son understands this. ‘Tis why he endures, why he does not press him.” He repeated his advice. “Trust him, Elrond. When has he, when have either of your sons ever failed you?”

Elrond hesitated then looked at the Wizard with the faintest wisp of hope. 

“Never.”

oOoOoOo

Despite his own words of counsel to Elrond, Gandalf could not desist from going to the subject of their discussion himself. Not when the object of said subject’s love would be travelling with him for the Valar only knew how long. If he could only give ease to the younger twin, he would feel so much better on the morrow. One less burdened heart was a gift in these dark times. Which was why the Wizard found himself walking down the corridor of the residential wing of the house, seeking the Elf-knight.

He saw him near the porch leading to the gardens, conversing with the Mirkwood prince. He waited, silently observing them. The dark head was bent close to the golden, grey eyes shared secrets with blue. At length, Legolas chuckled softly and, after a fond smile at the twin, walked away.

All that time, Elrohir had guarded his expression, displayed naught but the tender regard of a friend and sworn brother. But no sooner had Legolas turned away and no longer saw his face than his demeanor changed. Nothing blatantly overt. Just a darkening of the twilight eyes, the merest quiver of the sinuous mouth, the resigned droop of the proud shoulders. Gandalf felt his heart wrench at that doleful sight.

He remained still as Elrohir turned and began to walk toward him, head slightly bowed. The warrior jerked his head up when he realized an impediment stood in his way.

“A moment of your time, Elrohir,” Gandalf requested, a gesture indicating the gardens.

Elrohir smiled and nodded. “Always, Mithrandir.”

They strolled amidst the frost covered trees and bushes, unmindful of the crisp wintry air though Gandalf knew full well that, given prolonged exposure to the bone-chilling cold, even he would start to feel its bite.

“Are you prepared for this venture?” Elrohir quietly asked.

“As prepared as any can be for such an uncertain road,” Gandalf replied. “And you?”

Elrohir looked at him, puzzled. “I am not leaving on this quest.”

“But Legolas is. Are you prepared to part from him?”

Elrohir stopped; considered the Wizard quizzically. “I am loath to let him go on so perilous a journey,” he said at last. 

“And I know full well why you are loath to let him go,” Gandalf murmured. “You would rather sacrifice your life than risk his.”

“He is my dearest friend,” Elrohir pointed out. “I could hardly be gladdened that he will be part of such a perilous undertaking.”

“Yet you do not plead with Aragorn to stay though he is your well-loved foster-brother,” Gandalf gently reminded him.

“This is Estel’s destiny,” Elrohir countered. “I cannot stand in his way.”

“And how do you know that it is not Legolas’s destiny as well to take this road? Nay, son of Elrond, ‘tis not reason that moves you but your heart.”

Elrohir gazed somberly at the Wizard, wondering what his friend knew, struggling to discern what he could confide.

“It seems you have read mine then,” he commented at length.

“I have been observing you these many years,” Gandalf said kindly. “Even before Elladan spoke to me on the matter, I suspected as much.” 

Elrohir nodded then sighed. “What my heart desires is of no significance in this struggle,” he said. “As you say, ‘tis his destiny and none should hinder it. Yet I cannot stop myself from wanting to keep him safe from the evils without. He is not as I am, Mithrandir. I have seen enough wickedness to render me jaded by it.”

“Nay, Elf-knight, that is not so,” Gandalf reproved gently. “Your noble heart would never allow it. Always will you seek evil’s ruin for it is not in you to let it flourish unchecked.” 

Elrohir snorted mildly. “You give me too much credit,” he retorted though without ire. “Yet ‘tis true that I have faced evil many a time and lived to tell my tale of it. But Legolas has not. Not true evil. I fear for him. I do not want his pure heart tainted or shattered by whatever lies ahead.”

“It will not be tainted or shattered,” Gandalf reassured him. “Not if he has your love to shield him and hold him steady. He may not recognize your regard as such but he knows it as his. It will sustain him even in the darkest hours, this knowledge that he is cherished by one whose affection he treasures more than any other’s. Even his own kin.”

Elrohir peered at the Wizard in surprise. “You exaggerate, Mithrandir,” he protested.

“Nay, I speak the truth. And Legolas will come to realize this as well though he is intractable enough to deny it when he does!” This last was said with a hint of the same exasperation Elrond had displayed earlier.

Elrohir could not help chuckling at the Wizard’s show of pique. “Aye, Nimeithel has called him mule-headed on occasion,” he said, recalling the Elf-princess’s not always complimentary remarks regarding her brother.

“An apt description I must say,” Gandalf agreed. 

He smiled when he espied a glimmer of pleasure in Elrohir’s eyes. That did Gandalf a world of good, knowing he had given some cheer and a measure of hope to the dauntless Elf-rider. 

They walked on in silence for a few moments. Then Elrohir glanced at the Wizard and said, “May I ask a favor of you?”

“Anything in my power.”

“I know ‘tis Frodo’s well-being and safety that will occupy your mind in this quest,” the Elf-knight said. “But may I be so bold as to ask you to guide and protect Legolas as well? Until such time that I may do so again.”

Gandalf nodded in understanding. “As to that, it may be sooner than you expect,” he remarked. He did not elucidate any further despite the twin’s puzzled reaction. Instead he said: “Take heart, Elrohir. I will do what I may for all of the Fellowship but, for your sake, I will take our Mirkwood prince under my wing whenever I can. That is, if he will allow such coddling in the first place,” he added with a twinkle in his wizened eyes.

Elrohir had to grin at the Istar’s succinct summary of the Elf-prince’s character. They heard the dinner bell sound and hearkened to its summons. Turning their conversation to other matters, they walked back to the house together.

oOoOoOo

_Ringarë_ 25 T.A. 3018  
Legolas stepped into the Hall of Fire where farewells would be made. It was nearing dusk and the Company would soon depart under cover of darkness. Of the Fellowship, he was the most lightly clad for the cold troubled him little.

His eyes fell at once upon the twins who flanked their father and sister. Arwen’s countenance betrayed nothing of the fear that she most likely bore for Aragorn. But that was not surprising. In her long years of sojourning in the Golden Wood, she had learned to school her demeanor. No longer did she let her tart tongue rule her or give her former impetuosity free rein. She was the Lady of Imladris in her mother’s stead and she acted accordingly though, on occasion, the Arwen of old still peeked out, particularly with those close to her.

After saying goodbye to the others who waited – especially Glorfindel, Erestor, Almariel and Lindir – Legolas quietly took leave of Arwen and her father, wondering somewhat uneasily at the rather stern gaze Elrond dealt him. But his unease was soon dispelled by Elrohir’s warm smile.

The younger twin took him by the arm and led him out of the hall. “Come,” he said. “I would have us speak our last in private.”

“But Aragorn—”

“We have already said our farewells to him,” Elladan said. 

Outside, they spoke for a while, the twins continuing to buttress their Mirkwood friend’s resolve. They knew full well what it felt like to travel far from family and home into strange lands on journeys fraught with peril and the likelihood of tragedy never far away. For all his eagerness, Legolas could not help harboring the doubts and worries that would strike even the most seasoned of journeymen when faced with uncertainty of life and limb.

At length, they saw the others begin to come out of the hall, Boromir and Gimli first, followed by the four Hobbits and, lastly, Aragorn. Gandalf remained behind, still deep in talk with Elrond. The brethren made to follow them when Legolas tugged at Elrohir’s hand, staying him. The younger twin nodded at his brother and Elladan walked on. Elrohir turned to face the archer.

“What is it?” he queried.

Legolas hesitated. When he spoke, he sounded a bit abashed. 

“What I said to you,” he haltingly said. “About being glad that – that...”

“That I am as your friend once more,” Elrohir quietly supplied.

“Aye, that. Elrohir, I did not mean to imply that I was – shamed by what passed between us.” At Elrohir’s start of surprise, Legolas sighed. “You have kept it to yourself, but I know you were hurt by my words. I am sorry I did not choose them more wisely.”

Elrohir fell silent for a spell, slightly taken aback that Legolas had discerned his pain and torn between relief and frustration that he had not comprehended the reason for it. 

“I will not deny that I was troubled by what you said,” he finally replied, daring to admit that much. “But I understand why you needed to tell me of your feelings about this matter. There is no need to apologize for speaking the truth.”

Legolas peered at his friend, aware of undercurrents in his demeanor yet unable to discern their significance. But there was no time to dig deeper; he would have to wait until they met again. If they ever did.

“You know I esteem you above all else,” Legolas said, rendered anxious by the Elf-knight’s reticence with him. 

The twilight eyes glittered with unfathomable emotion. “You have assured me of this many times, Calenlass,” the warrior said.

“But you do believe me?” Legolas insistently prodded. “Please, Elrohir, tell me that you do.”

Elrohir looked at him searchingly. When Legolas did not flinch under his argent gaze, he softly replied, “Aye, _malthernil_ , I believe you.” He glanced up as Elrond and Gandalf at last came out of the Hall of Fire. “Let us go.”

“Elrohir—” Legolas held back, discomfited by an odd sense of things still left unresolved.

“I believe you,” Elrohir gently repeated. “And deem you closest to my heart of all I hold dear. Always trust in that, Legolas.” 

The archer managed a smile at the assurance. He nodded and let his friend lead him out to the courtyard where Elladan waited with the other companions and the closest members of the household. Elrond and Gandalf soon joined the small gathering.

After Elrond gave his final counsel and farewells to the Company, Legolas returned to the twins to bid them a last goodbye. 

“May the Valar protect you on this journey, Legolas,” Elladan said. “And do keep Estel out of trouble for us.”

Legolas laughed softly as the older twin warmly hugged him. He turned to the younger twin.

Elrohir murmured: “Be safe, Calenlass _nîn_. You will always be in our thoughts and prayers.”

“As you will be in mine,” Legolas fervently replied. 

Suddenly, he realized just how much he would miss his friends. For this would be the first time he would be journeying far and into unknown danger without them. In particular, he would miss Elrohir and his never failing regard. He caught the Elf-knight to himself and held him tightly. An embrace as snug and tender was his answer and he was heartened by it.

At last, he started to walk away to rejoin the Company. But after a few steps he looked back at them uncertainly. Elladan grinned encouragingly and Elrohir, with an understanding smile, softly said, “Go.”

Legolas beamed at them then turned away and walked off resolutely to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. 

*************************************  
Glossary:  
Ringarë – Quenya for December  
malthernil – golden prince  
Calenlass nîn - my Greenleaf 

_End of Part XVI._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Part XVII: In the Shadows – After the Battle of the Hornburg, Legolas is reunited with the twins. A chance remark leads Gimli to conclude that appearances can be deceiving._


End file.
